An Itch Sam Can't Scratch
by eclecticxdetour
Summary: [WINCEST of the SamDean persuasion][Rated M for Extreme SLASH][Sam is 15, Dean is 19]Sam's got an itch he can't scratch and Dean, being the awesome big brother that he is, offers to lend his Sammy a hand.


Dean's attention snapped from cleaning the guns to Sam when he heard his little brother whining his name. A smirk crossed his lips as he caught sight of Sam's pout and the awkward angle of Sam's arm as he writhed on the other motel bed.

"Need a hand there, little brother?"

Sam nodded eagerly and said, "_God_, yes, _please_, De…" crossing to Dean's bed when Dean patted the spot in front of him.

Dean splayed one leg to the side and bent the other at the knee. He grabbed onto Sam's sides as he pressed in against his ear, "Need ya' closer if you want me to do it, Sammy."

Sam huffed and scooted back into Dean, crossing his legs Indian-style as he settled between Dean's hips. He let out a sigh at the first touch of Dean's fingers.

"Tell me where," said Dean, moving his fingers along Sam's heated skin.

Sam shivered at the tickling sensation and breathed out, "Lower."

Dean complied; trailing his fingers lower, his wrist moving up and down as his fingers worked their magic.

Sam made small keening sounds as Dean continued his ministrations. He shifted along with Dean's fingers and whined when Dean wasn't hitting the right spot. Sam bent himself trying to get Dean's fingers to stroke over the spot, but to no avail, "_Dean_, up."

Dean hummed in acknowledgement and shifted his hand up, smiling when Sam voiced his appreciation.

"God, Dean, right there, yeah," groaned Sam, pressing up against Dean's hand.

Dean's fingers lightly teased and he laughed when Sam grabbed his wrist and tried to get him to go faster. So Dean worked his fingers faster.

Sam leant back into Dean and grit out through clenched teeth, "C'mon, man, harder, _please_."

Dean laughed again pushing against Sam's back, "Dude, you gotta bend forward so my arm isn't bent so awkwardly so I can scratch your back, bitch."

"Sorry," mumbled Sam, leaning forward as Dean asked, slouching his back so Dean could have easier access.

"S'better," said Dean, letting his hand drop from Sam's hip to join the other in scratching his brother's back.

Sam groaned loud and wriggled back against Dean's lap as both of his brother's hands went to work on scratching the itch that seemed to have spread all over; his back, his sides, his hips, even at the dimples over the top of his ass. He scooted back into Dean, ass pressing against Dean's groin as he continued wiggling in Dean's lap, trying to get Dean's blunt nails to scratch everywhere at once.

Dean grunted at the feel of the firm globes of Sam's ass rubbing against his crotch. His hands fell from Sam's back to his brother's hips to still Sam's ceaseless, and decidedly arousing, wriggling. "_Jesus_," he gasped as Sam continued rocking against him, trying to get him to scratch his back more, but Dean only squeezed Sam's hips harder, "would ya' sit still, you moron, _god_."

Sam froze and looked at Dean over his shoulder as he whined, "_Dude_, c'mon, please, it _itches_…" He jutted out his bottom lip and continued squirming between Dean's thighs.

Dean bit his lip to stifle the groan that wanted to burst forth from his mouth as he felt his cock swell in his jeans. He couldn't stop the moan that fell from his lips, though, when Sam touched his inner thigh, nor could he stop the minute thrust of his hips against Sam's butt.

"_Sammy_," he gasped, gripping Sam's bare hips hard enough to bruise as he pressed his forehead between Sam's shoulder blades.

Sam looked at Dean again, an amused quirk to his eyebrow. He shifted purposefully against Dean again and let out a laugh when he felt Dean groan against his back. "God, Dean, you're such a freak."

Dean jabbed Sam's ribs with his forefinger and grinned in satisfaction when Sam whimpered breathlessly, "Shut up. You'd be hard, too, if you had a hard teenage body writhing against your cock."

Sam huffed out a laugh and leant fully back against Dean's chest. He rubbed his messy mop of hair beneath Dean's chin and grinned when he felt Dean let out a contented sigh against the top of his head. He tilted his head and rubbed his cheek against Dean's stubbled jaw as he asked, "You gonna do something about it?"

Dean peered down at Sam, his hand still making a valiant attempt at scratching Sam's back as the other trailed down Sam's bare chest and to the bulge pressing against the front of what had to be the skimpiest pair of boxer-briefs that Sam owned. Dean pressed the heel of his palm down against Sam's erection; rubbing and massaging at the hard line of Sam's cock, causing Sam to moan. He rested his chin on Sam's shoulder and breathed in his brother's ear, "Gotta get ya' some new underpants, Sammy."

Sam snorted and pistoned his hips up into Dean's touch, "Yeah right, Dean; I _know _you like it when I wear these."

Dean continued to palm Sam through his shorts as he said, "Damn right I like it." He rocked his hips forward so his clothed dick was riding the seat of Sam's underwear, "I like it _a lot_."

Sam moaned in agreement and stilled Dean's hand, groaning when Dean squeezed his handful, "Boxers off _now_, De."

Dean wasted no time in hooking his thumbs beneath the waistband of Sam's sinfully tight boxer-briefs and flinging them on the floor. He sighed in relief as Sam kneeled before him and removed the constricting denims and worn cotton boxers he was wearing. Dean couldn't keep the greedy lustful expression from his features as his eyes feasted upon the sight of his little brother kneeling before him; hard and ready, and his eyes full of _lustwantneed_.

Dean turned slightly and fluffed up the pillows at the small of his back as he settled more comfortably against the headboard of the rickety bed. Once again spreading his legs wide and patting the space in front of him so Sam could seat himself against his chest.

Sam grinned at Dean and crawled in between his brothers legs, spreading his thighs as he hooked his knees over Dean's.

Dean moaned as he thought of the sight he and his brother must make, with Sam's legs spread wide over his, Sam's bronzed skin against his own lighter complexion. "God_damn_, Sammy, such a little slut," Dean cupped Sam's hip with one hand, the other trailing along the sensitive skin of Sam's side, "so hot and bothered for me, little brother."

Sam groaned and shifted himself until he felt Dean's cock slip-sliding along the valley of his ass. He rocked his hips back against Dean and replied, a smirk on his face, "Doesn't seem like I'm the only one, though, Dean."

Dean laughed against the side of Sam's neck as he grabbed a hold of Sam's length, "Definitely not, baby boy."

Sam tilted his head back against Dean's shoulder and nuzzled against Dean's neck; panting against the sweat-shiny skin and inhaling the sweet, hot, musky scent of his brother there. He moaned against the slick skin as Dean's tongue swept over his full bottom lip as he smeared the pre-come that had gathered at the head of his dick down the shaft and even lower over his perineum.

Sam whined as Dean kept teasing him; lightly fisting his cock, barely enough for Sam to even _feel _it. "_De_, c'mon, please, quit teasin'."

"Not teasin', Sammy," said Dean moaning long and deep when Sam bit at the throbbing pulse beneath his skin, "gettin' you nice n' dripping for me so I can jerk your cock."

Dean's words seemed to have sprung him into action as his cock jerked and began steadily leaking. He could feel Dean smirk against the top of his head as his brother said, "That's my boy. Always so good for me."

Dean finally wrapped his hand around Sam's velvety hard shaft and stroked smooth and sure, and he groaned low in his throat when Sam rocked into his fist and then back against his lap.

"_Jesus_," gasped Sam, one hand bracing on Dean's thigh, the other up at the back of Dean's neck as he fingered the soft hair at the nape.

Dean shook his head, "Nah, just Dean."

Sam let out a choked laugh, "Ass."

Dean hooked his chin over Sam's shoulder again and nosed just beneath his ear, smiling against Sam's neck as Sam's back arched into an elegant bow when he thumbed just beneath the head.

"Fuck, _De_, just--_fuck_," cried Sam, fucking forward into the tight circle of Dean's fist, and thrusting his ass back against Dean's dick.

Dean bared his teeth and hissed as he felt the head of his cock catch _just_ _so _against the puckered muscle of Sam's entrance. He pumped Sam faster as he continued thrusting against the crease of Sam's ass. Dean licked his lips as he breathed through his mouth, fisting Sam as his pinky flirted with his brother's perineum.

Sam whined in the back of his throat when Dean's other hand came up and his fingers slipped between his lips. He moaned when Dean's slicked fingers trailed down his chest and circled around his nipple, twisting and pinching until the nub was a dark rosy color. Sam fisted the hand at Dean's nape in his brother's hair as he felt that same hand at his heavy sac, rolling his balls and weighing them in his palm.

Dean pressed a kiss beneath Sam's ear as his hands worked over his brother's body, wringing delicious heart-fluttering shudders from Sam when he rubbed spit-slicked fingers over Sam's hole.

Sam gasped and twisted so that he could crush his mouth to Dean's in a bruising kiss as he came; Dean's hand jerking and thumbing at his cock, Dean's tongue dueling with his own, just Dean, Dean, _Dean_.

Dean sighed against Sam's lips, stroking his brother through his climax as he continued to ride Sam's ass; licking at Sam's lightly stubbled jaw as he held Sam tight in his lap. He felt Sam's hand glide up his thigh and tug gently at the hair at the base of his cock and he came with a loud growl against Sam's neck; his cock spurting hot and wet between Sam's cheeks and over his lower back.

Both Winchesters' chests heaved as they gasped in an attempt to even out their breathing.

Dean rubbed at Sam's hip where he had gripped just a _little _too hard and he could already see the slight fingertip shaped bruises starting to form. He caressed with gentle fingers as he kissed Sam's shoulder, "Sorry 'bout that, Sammy."

Sam slowly pried his eyes open and looked down at his hip and Dean's hand and he grinned lazily, "Really did a number on me this time, De."

Sam's post-orgasmic grin was contagious and a moment later Dean found himself grinning as well, bringing his come-coated hand to Sam's belly and rubbing in the evidence of his brother's pleasure. Dean tilted Sam's head toward his and briefly swept his tongue into Sam's mouth before pulling away, carding a hand through Sam's hair as he said, "Should probably get cleaned up."

Dean let his numb leg drop to the floor and he toed around for Sam's discarded boxer-briefs. He snatched them up between his toes and wiped his cooling come from between Sam's buttocks and at the small of his back before cleaning up Sam's groin and lower belly.

Sam unhooked his legs from atop Dean's and stretched them, pushing Dean's legs together and wrapping his arms around Dean's waist as he curled in against his brother. He kissed Dean's sternum and sighed, "Thanks, De."

If Dean hadn't've known that John wasn't going to be back from Bobby's for at least another two days he would've just kissed Sam goodnight and told him to go to his own bed. Though, because he _did _know that their dad wasn't going to be coming back anytime soon, he just hummed off the thanks and threw an arm around his brother, his nails gently scraping along Sam's shoulder blades as he settled them further down the bed and underneath the wrinkled, twisted sheets.

Dean mumbled against the top of Sam's head and pressed his lips against the shaggy mop that Sam called hair, clearing his throat as he said in a voice barely above a whisper, "Love you."

Sam smiled against Dean's chest, squirming as Dean kept running his nails lightly along his back. The incessant itch was back and the ticklish sensation of Dean's fingers was doing nothing to scratch that itch; not to mention, the bit of Dean's come his brother hadn't managed to wipe away was drying and flaking between his cheeks and at the small of his back and it was quite uncomfortably itchy. He titled his head to look up at Dean and said, "Love _you_, Dean, but.."

Dean peered at Sam through half lidded eyes, an eyebrow raised in question as he prompted, "But…"

Sam wriggled back against Dean's hand, "M'still itchy."


End file.
